


Younger Men

by Nimbus_Cloud



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Courtship, F/M, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-29 12:40:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5128016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nimbus_Cloud/pseuds/Nimbus_Cloud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite his defeat by her hands at the Queen's Tourney, young Alexis Leon Midford is completely taken with the lady of House Phantomhive, and has committed to making her his intended.  This wouldn't vex Frances quite so much if only Vincent weren't her younger brother and taking far too much amusement in the whole affair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“You must lower your stance further, my lady,” Tanaka instructed firmly, pacing around his mistress and lightly tapping at the backs of her knees with a ruler.  “And you are leaning too far forward.” 

Breathing in carefully through her nose, Frances did her best to correct her posture though everything about the form was unnatural and foreign to her.  It frustrated her to know that athleticism and flexibility did not always go hand in hand, and that she could not immediately grasp what it was like to fight with a Japanese katana versus her foils and épées.  But having mastered fencing and proven her ability at the Queen’s royal tourney, she felt she must challenge herself to attempt new forms of swordsmanship to better her overall skills.  It was her fortune and her bane to have been born a Phantomhive, for her family fortuitously held a _samurai_ in their employ, posed as a butler though he was. 

“One!”

She raised the sword above her head with some difficulty—a _bokuto_ was an awkward shape to hold in her hands, and brought it down sharply.

“Control over speed, my lady.  You must utilize the core of your body more than your arms, and feel your connection to the ground below your feet.” 

“Understood, Tanaka.” 

She adjusted her stance again and prepared for another strike when a drawling voice from the doorway of the practice room drew her attention.

“What new form of masochism is this now, dear sister?  Someday I fear I’ll wake up and find you an absolute ogre of a woman, your muscles tearing out of your gowns the instant you flex them a fraction.” 

“What do you want, Vincent?” She avoided looking in his direction lest he distract her entirely.

“Are you so fond of exerting yourself?” 

“It would do you some good to exert yourself more than you do.  As you are, you’ve little means to defend yourself without Tanaka, myself, or father.” 

“I know my way around a pistol.  That does more than a sword in the modern age anyhow.  ‘Mind over matter,’ as Sir Charles Lyell coined!”

“Have you a reason for imposing upon my training?”  Frances snapped. 

“Yes, actually.  Rare, I know, for me to have an actual reason to disturb you, sister, but it’s rarer still that a social invitation has arrived for you!” Vincent held out an already-opened letter to Tanaka to read aloud and crossed his arms, an amused smirk crossing his features.  “Spring is come to London, Frances, and you’ll soon have to put down your swords and take up your petticoats.” 

“To the young lady, Miss Phantomhive,” Tanaka began to read.  “Though I stand defeated in the ring against your might, and therefore have no standing with which I might impose upon your good graces, I have dared myself to challenge you again, but in another arena.  My family will be hosting a ball Saturday after next, and I extend an invitation to you, Miss Phantomhive, in the hopes that you will meet me there and do me the honor of a dance.  I pride myself in being a better dancer than a fencer, and in the art of waltzing, I think even you will have difficulty besting my abilities.  To that event, your entire family are most welcome, your brother and your parents, if they so wish to attend.  Yours sincerely, Alex Leon Midford.” 

Frances practically threw her practice sword against the wall and glared at Vincent’s overbearing smile. 

“Stop grinning, you look a complete fool!”

But he only burst out laughing at her and she was glad the rosy color in her cheeks from exercise hid the blush creeping up to her ears. 

“Why, he’s charming, Frances!  Absolutely charming!”  Vincent struggled between chuckles.  “To think you’ve won the heart of Diedrich’s former fag!  And by besting him at a tourney!”

“You’re positively incorrigible!  Tanaka, I’ve no wish to go, if you’d please write a reply politely decl—“

“You’ll do no such thing, Tanaka.” Vincent interrupted, his tone suddenly ominous though a slight smile never left his face.  “Frances, you mustn’t be so quick to refuse invitations such as these.”  He waved Tanaka out of the room and uncrossed his arms.   

“The boy was Diedrich’s fag, I’m sure you’re still welcome to go even if I do not attend.” 

She moved to pick up her sword but Vincent was beside her in a moment, gently removing the _kote_ from her hands so he could hold her hands in his own without impediment.  He was being kind, and it made her wary.  Vincent was more like their father than she cared to admit, and both men inspired more fear than warmth when they exhibited such kindness. 

“Though younger than you or I, Alex will inherit his father’s title and his lands.  He is a _Marquess,_ Frances, and far better connected with the proper circles than myself or father.”

“You sound like mother,” she replied coldly, though she did not pull her hands away.  “So keen on marrying me away, I thought it’d amuse you most of all to see me grow old as a spinster.” 

“You are my favorite sister—“

“Your _only_ sister—“

“And I am your favorite brother,” he continued, ignoring her.  “I’ve no other option but to tease you.  But never mistake my taunting for malice; I care for you deeply, and I want to see you married to a good family and away from this cursed place.  Between us you can forsake the name of Phantomhive, and find a lifelong happiness blessed with peace.” 

“Or perhaps you want me away from here so you can squander our inheritance with your capricious lifestyle…” she muttered, only half serious. 

“I’ve a looser grip on my purse than father or yourself, it’s true.” Vincent laughed.  “But if you become a Marchioness, I could always depend upon you for a loan, could I not?” 

She jabbed him in the ribs and he recoiled immediately, crying out in pain.  “My _dearest_ brother,” she returned the smirk.  “If I become the Marchioness of Midford, what obligations have I to the Phantomhive name I’ve forsaken?”  

“How cruel you are, Frances!”  he pouted, rubbing at his sore ribs.  “You really are a monster.” 

“No more than yourself, Vincent.”

“So you’ll accept young Alex’s invitation?”

“Must you place such emphasis on his age?” 

“A younger man is nothing to be ashamed of, sister!  You’ll be able to boast of his _vitality_ if nothing else to all the other ladies—“

“Vincent!”

“But if you’re accepting his invitation, you should come out straightaway for you mustn’t keep him waiting.”

“Whether I write the letter now or an hour from now after I’m finished here is of little consequence, the message will get to him before the evening is out.” Frances shrugged. 

“Why would you write a letter when you can just tell him yourself?”  Vincent smiled.

“Are you suggesting I ride to the Midford estate, unannounced, at this hour?” 

“I’m suggesting you come out to the foyer, where young Alex is waiting, and tell him in person—“

“He’s here?!  How long has he been here!?” she screeched, forgetting herself a moment. 

“Logically, he’s been here since before my interruption.”  He rang a bell to summon Tanaka, a devilish grin playing upon his features as Frances grew steadily more flustered.  “But since I love you so much, sister, I can distract him a while in the stables while the maids help make you presentable.” 

“I shan’t thank you for this, Vincent!” she fumed.  “I shall be only too glad to be married to Alex, if it means leaving here and being free of you!” 

Tanaka re-entered the room with a cough, murmuring in a low voice in Vincent’s ear, prompting him to dash quickly out of the room as Frances took up her sword again. 

“I’ll be sure to let him know, sister!” 

Closing the door behind him, he smiled and heartily clapped a bewildered Alex on the shoulder in greeting, grasping his arm and walking them swiftly away. 

“Fear not, Alex.  I won’t tease you near half so much when we are brothers as I tease Frances.”  


	2. Contradictions

The Earl of Phantomhive is snatched from their worlds suddenly, as they expected he might—his death as anticipated as unexpected can be.  With sad smiles, his widowed wife tells polite society it was a sudden illness that took him so soon, and the family hold a closed casket funeral at Westminster Abbey.  Many attend who know the reason for the privacy and discretion, but still many more who assume only the most mundane things.  Afterwards, the Countess withdraws from all the world, including her children, and Frances and Vincent are left to sort out their father’s affairs and assets while their mother grieves. 

They had almost forgotten what horror they had been born to—so occupied as of late with their blossoming courtships.  Frances spent long hours staring at her engagement ring and wondered when she could look forward to her upcoming nuptials again.  Her father had so been looking forward to walking her down that aisle, to give away his first child, his precious daughter to a man who truly deserved her, and Frances was bereft at being robbed of him.  Her feelings were all raging anger and debilitating grief, and she could not focus no matter how many times she took up her swords.  Instead she spent her time riding long hours on horseback, on the estate and off it, sometimes inviting Alex for silent company because she didn’t wish to be wholly alone. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered at last one afternoon as they returned to the stables, running their horses at a light trot.  “I’ve been useless about wedding preparations.” 

“It is nothing to be sorry for, Frances.  I know it is a shock to lose your father so early, and although I want nothing more than for us to be wed, I would gladly postpone the entire affair if you need it.”

“Truth be told, a part of me wants us to elope straightaway; postponement is the last thing I would want.” She smiled sadly, her eyes drifting silently to the high roofs of her late father’s manor. 

“If that is what you truly want, I will gladly accommodate that wish as well; I want nothing more than to please you,” Alex assured her quietly. 

“No.  I think the ceremony matters more than ever now.  Especially to my mother.”

“My father has offered to walk you down the aisle if you—“

“Vincent shall give me away.  We’ve decided.” 

“As you wish.” 

“I feel so sorry,” her voice was strained.  “That he cannot so easily escape our home like I.  It feels a mausoleum in that house.”

“I remember Vincent from our days at Weston.  Assuming he has not changed drastically from grief, I think there is no one more capable of carrying on your father’s legacy than himself.  That is—apart from your very good self, Frances, why… I know you’d have been a more-than-capable heir to the late Earl if you had only been born a man—that’s not to say that a _woman_ couldn’t succeed him—it’s only that—“

She laughed, and it had been the first time in so many days that she felt a smile on her face.  Though she rarely smiled, she felt she had somehow come back to herself with the gesture, and she spurred her mare to run a little faster ahead. 

“Come now, Alex!  You mustn’t let it be said that I am superior to you on horseback as well as fencing!” 

“But, Frances you’re cheating!”  he cried, racing after her. 

She only laughed into the wind as she went on ahead, gripping Gaia tight with her thighs and holding firm the reins.  The breeze felt wonderful and refreshing upon her face, and she felt at last a sort of peace returning to herself. 

When they both drew up to the stables—Alex coming in after Frances as expected—the footmen took the reins from them and Frances stole a kiss from Alex’s blushing cheek in gratitude for his company and his affection. 

“Thank you for the day, Alex.  And for every day.  And for every day still yet to come.”  She whispered quietly, her cheeks tinged pink from the chilly air (and _only_ from the air, mind). 

Alex flushed unabashedly and wiped at the immediately forming tears in his eyes—he was so quick to tears, despite his large stature. 

They said their good byes as proper ladies and gentlemen do, all polite smiles and safe distances, and Frances found herself longing for the day when she would no longer have to obey such protocols and could have her way with him properly, as only a wife could.  _How shameful I am_ , she thought.  _Father’s only just been laid to rest._  

“Are you still wearing black, Frances?” she heard Vincent approach just as Alex had taken his leave.

“How could any of us not?  Father’s only been dead ten days.”  She scowled reproachfully at Vincent’s light blue suit—she had hoped that even he would not dare such blatant disregard for social custom.  It could be said he did not mourn their father in the slightest. 

“But you’re an engaged woman!  You should wear bright colors and prance about London in your happiest scowl, father would have wanted it so.” 

“I don’t think even father would have wanted us to forget him so soon.  You should be ashamed of yourself, Vincent.”

“I don’t think father would have wanted us to carry on the way mother has.  Locked up in her room and refusing to eat or drink, rejecting every bit of company, and signing away the estate to me as if she had one foot in the grave already.  By the grace of god, if I have to leave this world the way father did, I pray the bastards take my wife with me so she wouldn’t suffer so.” 

“Vincent!  That’s a monstrous thing to say!”

“You shouldn’t expect more from me, sister.  I _am_ a monster, and I have inherited a monstrous world.”  His hand moved to touch the signet ring on his left hand, a reminder to them both. 

A hard silence passed between them a while before Vincent softened a touch, sighing and running a hand through his hair. 

“Forgive me, Frances.  I am new to grief.” 

“As am I, or have I lost some other parent we do not share?”

“Oh Frances, you forget you’ve been grieving for me your whole life.” He smirked, and at last he seemed himself a little.  “Don’t scowl so much at my attire.  I won’t be going out with it, I just needed to liven up the house somehow, but it was too cold and dreary to open all the windows.”   

“Dine with me, Vincent,” she meant to beseech him, but habit forced the words out of her like a command.  “We’ve only so many more opportunities left to us to dine as a family.” 

“Nonsense.  Once you are wed, I expect you to throw a hundred dinner parties just for me, and I shall impose upon your hospitality as often as I can.”  But he took her arm and led her to the dining hall.  “But for tonight, since I am robbed of all other preferred guests, I’ll settle for you.” 

She would’ve knocked him silly if it didn’t give her such odd comfort to hear him speak so insolently again.  Siblings were such contradictions, she thought.  If they treat you horribly, they are doing as well as can be.  When she has children—and she blushed only a little at the thought now that she could picture their father—she would be sure to have at least two.  It would be good for their characters, she decided. 

Tanaka brought out their first course, a hint of a smile playing beneath his moustache, and Frances thought that he too, must be glad for the return of their bickering. 

“You’ve been visiting the Durless family more and more,” Frances said across the table over their soup.  “As I recall, they have two daughters.” 

“Both of them lovely,” Vincent smirked.  “Perhaps I shall take them both as my wife.” 

“I’ve heard that Rachel is not of sound body,” she ignored the flicker of annoyance that crossed Vincent’s expression.  “But Angelina is healthy, in body and mind, and studying for a medical degree.”

“Yes, I believe so.”  He appeared nonchalant, but he had lost his appetite for the soup entirely and waved it away. 

“A doctor would be an asset to you,” she phrased her words carefully.  It was clear which of the Durless ladies he preferred. 

“She would be as much an asset as a sister-in-law as a wife.”

“Rachel has asthma and a weak heart, do you find it appropriate to subject her weak constitution to the curse of this house?  Can she even safely bear children?” 

“I think that is of no concern to you, _Marchioness_ ,” he almost hissed the last word.  “I gave you only my love and support in pursuing a younger man, despite how the lords and ladies whisper of the impropriety—“

“How rich to hear _you_ speak of impropriety!”

“—and despite the ridicule brought from your fencing victory—“

“They can whisper only petty things because I arose as _victor_.”

“—is it so hard for you to approve of anything I do?”  He was the petulant baby brother when cornered, could he really be head of the house now?

“It’s not about approval, Vincent.  I only think that choosing Angelina over Rachel will save you much heartbreak in the future.  What if Rachel dies bearing your first child?  What if she cannot bear the weighty truths of this house?” 

“You’ve not met her, Frances.  I bid you say no more against the lady’s character.” 

“You love her.”  She could only be surprised, for Vincent had never before shown such devotion to anyone, not even Diedrich.  The way he spoke of Rachel, his fury at hearing her name besmirched, his evident determination to make her his intended despite all reason could only be proof that her baby brother was completely smitten with the girl.  Could she disregard someone who inspired any sort of seriousness in him? 

“She is unlike anyone I have ever known, Frances.  She’s so… different.” 

 _Yes_ , Frances thought.  _Of course she is.  She’s not battle-hardened or been tainted by the shadow like you or I.  How like you, to reach for something you shouldn’t._

“Then you must do right by her,” It was only Frances who could sound so stern while giving her blessing.  “You shouldn’t lead them both on the way you do, you’ll leave poor Angelina devastated.” 

“You flatter me, Frances!  That you think me capable of devastating women with my charm and leaving a crowd of wailing maidens in my wake.”

“Crowd?  I said _Angelina_.” 

“How are you to know where I’ve been and whom I’ve seen?” 

“I send Tanaka to spy on you, of course.”

“Such betrayal in my own home!” he laid a hand over his heart as Frances rolled her eyes at the melodrama.  “Well that settles it, you must take Tanaka with you when you’ve married.  I shan’t keep such a Judas in my employ.” 

“So you’ll concede Tanaka to me, and leave yourself with Fraulein Helga?”  Frances smiled to remember all the times he had been whipped into submission by their ogre of a housemaid. 

Vincent shuddered once, as if he too could visualize the memories playing in Frances’ mind. 

“I’ve reconsidered.  You must take Helga away from me—this house, away from this house.  Besides which, she would be bereft without her mistress.” 

“Since we are already on the topic,” Frances did her best to hide her chuckle.  “I think I shall take mother with me.” 

Vincent considered the proposal carefully.  Traditionally, she was meant to stay with him, as he was now the head of the household and was responsible for her care.  But he was at a loss given her recent behavior, and wondered if she should remain under the roof where her husband had been brutally…

“Yes… Yes.  I think it would be better for her to leave here.  If she’s willing.” 

“I should think she would be more than willing.  More than that, you know as well as I what needs to be done.  I’ll not have you worrying after mother as Her Majesty’s letters come in.” 

“That is a kindness, Frances.”

“Though it makes me uneasy leaving you in this empty house…” she muttered.

“You worry so much for me—“ he was touched, truly.

“…I shudder to think what debaucheries you’ll commit when left to your own devices with no supervision.”

He chucked a sprout at her in reply, hitting her square on the cheek. 

It was so childish, she could scarce believe it, but she surprised herself all the more when she found herself throwing a cherry tomato at him.  Her aim was better, but he was better prepared and brought up a serving tray to protect his face, afterwards peering out over it with a mischievous glint in his eye.  She caught his forehead with a splash of dressing, and he cried out, as if gravely wounded. 

He reached next for a bread roll but was stopped when Tanaka pulled the basket out from under his fingers, his grey old moustache bristling. 

Frances wondered if their father would be mortified with his children’s behavior—and at such an age as they were—before she firmly decided that her children should be plainly discouraged from all manner of food fighting.  At least, past the age of seven. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got more hits than I expected (certainly more reviews and kudos), but I expected all of two, so call me pleasantly surprised. And very grateful.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vincent at last becomes an uncle!

He hadn’t bitten his nails since he was an eight year old boy getting his hands whipped with rulers by Fraulein Helga and the governess, but Vincent was fraught with anxiety and couldn’t stop pacing up and down the hall.  It was terror that he had never known, a bone-chilling horror he couldn’t even begin to fathom despite being a well-educated man.  The maids rushed and darted around him, occasionally stopping to insist he sit down or go wait away from the chaos before ducking into the room from where a bloodcurdling scream would occasionally sound. 

He’d heard Frances shriek with terror as a young girl, had even heard his mother on occasion let loose a terrified scream when the manor was under attack, but none could compare to the shouts his sister let loose now. 

“Tanaka, are you certain she’s not dying?” he asked his butler for the third time that afternoon. 

“She’s merely giving birth, my lord,” he replied calmly, though there was a hint of nervousness in the old man from how he kept checking his pocket watch. 

“Merely?” Vincent scoffed.  “There is absolutely nothing ‘mere’ about what’s going on in there.” 

Another strangled cry jolted him back into pacing, he was sure the next scream of hers would bring down the walls all around them.  Moreover, he had been waiting _hours_ , and he had arrived well into the labor according to the household. 

“She’s dying, I’m sure of it.”  He muttered to himself. 

But at last it came—after a brief silence following a series of screams, the strangled cry of a newborn pierced the air.  He looked at Tanaka, eyes wide, and heard Alexis inside weeping with joy. 

He was an uncle now.

A maid rushed out of the room with an armful of bloody towels, and Vincent caught her wrist, his voice almost catching in his throat.

“My sister—“

“Exhausted, my lord.  But happy and healthy!” she apologized for the blood and ran swiftly off, reassuring him that he’d be allowed in soon. 

“…I shall have to do this myself one day…” Vincent said absentmindedly. 

“On that day, my lord,” Tanaka answered, “You’ll be _in_ the room instead of pacing outside it.” 

The young earl made a horrified expression, recoiling and bringing his gnawed nails back to his teeth.  _Impossible_ , he thought.  _I’m sure I’ll keel over from fright._  

They were made to wait several more minutes, the midwife insisting that the privacy and intimacy of the child’s first moments be given solely to the new parents, and then at last, Vincent was allowed to step inside.  His eyes went first to Frances, who looked haggard and weary, her hair mussed and her cheeks splotchy, her eyes red and her lips chapped, but somehow she was radiant, and he had no explanation for it.  Alexis too, was a red-eyed, blubbering mess, and Vincent could only see his junior from Weston in those happy sobs. 

“Come, Vincent.” Frances said softly.  “Come say hello to your new nephew, Edward.” 

He drew close to the bed and peered into the bundle of blankets and towels to see a small, squirming blob of pink flesh. 

“Good god, he’s hideous,” escaped his mouth before he could stop himself. 

And then Tanaka was pushing Frances back into bed as she attempted to rise and Vincent began cowering behind his faithful butler, shouting,

“You must protect me, Tanaka!  You swore your life to the task!” 

Moments later he had been shoved fiercely out of the room by the midwife and all her nurses, all of them screeching at him about upsetting the new mother.  Tanaka spent several moments longer in the room, alternating between profusely apologizing for his master’s behavior and congratulating them both for the new addition in their lives.  Vincent overheard Frances saying she considered the old man like a father, and that she was glad to have him in attendance in his place.  He also overheard Tanaka agreeing to bring him by in a couple more weeks after the Marchioness had recovered from her convalescence some.  He called through the door to his sister,

“I shall only come again if you swear to be unarmed when you greet me!” 

\--

Thankfully, she wasn’t armed—though Vincent had been ready in case she had been—when he revisited three weeks after, the Midford butler leading him to the estate gardens, where Frances greeted him with the best scowl she could muster.  But motherhood had softened her considerably, and Vincent felt no reason to fear for his life.

“Come Frances, let’s not quarrel,” he pouted, holding up a fabulously enormous bouquet of flowers and waving them into her face.  “I also brought several presents for the young lad, Edwin—“

“Edward.”

“Yes, Edward.  My beloved new nephew.  Let me see him, I really am very eager to see him again.  I promise I’ll be nothing but cordial.” 

“I place absolutely no faith in those words, but I’m well enough to trounce you if you speak ill of my son again.”  She smiled dangerously and led him across the gardens where Alexis was pacing slowly amidst the dahlias, cradling Edward in his arms and cooing softly at the boy. 

“Vincent!  Welcome, welcome!  Say hello to your uncle, Edward!” gently Alexis took the little hand between his fingers and wagged them slightly in his brother-in-law’s direction. 

Truth be told, he had to admit the lad looked considerably handsomer after he had spent some time out of the womb.  A small patch of golden blond fuzz adorned his head now, and his eyes were open and blinking up at him curiously with bright, shining emerald irises, rosy pink cheeks, and—heaven help him, he was smiling.  He absolutely couldn’t help smiling at the bundle and he raised one hand tentatively, looking up at Alex asking,

“May I?”

“Mind his head,” Alexis instructed gently, slowly shifting the weight into Vincent’s arms, carefully positioning the infant’s head in Vincent’s hand. 

Edward began to make noises of discomfort almost immediately and almost began to cry, but Alex cooed and shushed him softly, stroking a cheek with his thumb and whispering,

“There, there… be strong, Edward.  It’s just your uncle Vincent.  Smile for him, my lad, he’s so happy to meet you.” 

Edward was soon contented, so long as he could see Alex and Frances were still standing near, and stared long into Vincent’s eyes, his drool-stained hands tugging gently at his cravat and gurgling spit bubbles out of his lips. 

“My word, Frances…” Vincent whispered.  “He’s beautiful.  Congratulations to you both.” 

Frances could scarce believe the sight of her baby brother tenderly cradling her son and acting the role of an adoring uncle.  There was hardly any trace of the spoiled, self-absorbed brat she had always looked after. 

“Thank you, Vincent.”  She smiled, taking Alex’s hand in hers because he was fidgeting.  He always began to fidget when Edward was too long out of his arms.  “Don’t fuss, Alex darling.”

“My apologies, dearest, I only—“

“I know.  Alex can hardly let Edward out of his grasp, even for the wet-nurse or myself to feed him!” she explained to her brother, her teasing nothing but affectionate.  “I daresay if Alex had teats, he would feed our son in my place.” 

“I would, Frances.  I would not hesitate in the least.” 

“You two are insufferable,” Vincent chided.  “But the best parents in all of England, without a doubt.”  He looked down at his nephew and added, “I suspect you’ll be the first to tire of their antics, won’t you, Edward?”

Edward pulled a corner of the cravat into his mouth in reply.

“Welcome to the world, chap.  We’ll see much more of each other, I promise.”  Then he gently passed the babe back into the arms of his eager father, and Frances exchanged the bundle for her arm in his, pulling out a handkerchief to dab at the drool her son had left in his wake. 

“Come take a walk with me, Vincent.  You haven’t seen the beautiful gardens of the Midford estate yet.” 

“Alex, if we do not return within the hour, you must tell Scotland Yard what my sister’s done.”

Alex merely laughed in reply, but Vincent cried out again when they were several steps further away.

“And you must send word to Miss Rachel Durless that I had nothing but the deepest affection for her!” 

Soon enough they were out of earshot of most living souls save for the critters scurrying about in the bushes and trees, and Frances loosened her grip on her brother’s arm a touch. 

“So you’ve yet to propose to her.” 

“It is not so easy as all that, Frances.” He clicked his tongue in annoyance.  “I simply lose my nerve.  Surely there must have been one time in all your life when you must have felt something similar, no?” 

They exchanged silent glances with raised eyebrows for several moments before Vincent sighed.

“No, of course you haven’t.  What was I thinking?” 

“You either do it or you don’t, it’s just that simple, Vincent.  I’ll admit I’m surprised at your hesitation; I don’t think I’ve ever known you to show such restraint.” 

“Restraint I have in spades, what I need now is daring.” 

“Courage,” she corrected. 

“I don’t want her to think ill of me,” he admitted.  “But I cannot in good conscience propose to her until I tell her what she’s marrying into.  Surely father must have done the same for mother?”

“You’d have to ask her to know for sure, I’m afraid I don’t know.” 

“Motherhood’s changed you already.”

“What do you mean?”

“Before Edward, I think you would’ve whipped me several times upside the head and shouted at me to ‘buck up,’ or to ‘stop being such a cowardly disappointment!’”

“Do you need me to do that for you?” 

“Probably.” 

“Then I shan’t.”

“No, I won’t be fooled any longer.  You’re not my sister at all, what have you done with her?  Where is she?”

“Vincent—“

“I commend the likeness, but you’ve forgotten a few wrinkles between the brows—crucial to my sister’s countenance, you see.” 

She tickled him just below the ribs and he jumped quickly away, skipping ahead several steps. 

“Well the question is plainly this, Vincent.  Who would you rather see win several quid between Diedrich and myself?” 

“…are you—are the two of you… _gambling_?!  On when I’ll propose?” 

“Gambling is such a negative word… Really, it’s more of a… wager.” 

“And what have you bet?”

“Now now, to tell you would be giving myself an unfair advantage in the game, I think.  I wouldn’t do that to Diedrich, for he is your precious friend.” 

“How cruel you both are to me!  Frances, you at least must tell me which way you placed your bet.”

“Come, Vincent.  Let me show you the rose bushes.” 

 _“Frances!”_  

**Author's Note:**

> If only younger men weren't so exasperating...


End file.
